


kids aren't alright

by eggsyunwin (lady_laverty)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Tags May Change, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_laverty/pseuds/eggsyunwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The name Eggsy came from somewhere and it wasn't a friendly neighbourhood attempt at bullying. It has a deeper meaning. But doesn't everything? </p>
<p>Canon AU from the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kids aren't alright

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** _Eggsy is short for Alexandra, but Eggsy stopped answering to that when he was four. By the time Lee died, Michelle had learned that Eggsy was only happy with short hair and "boy things;" anything else would be met with fretting and pleading eyes. It was only in the years after that Michelle realized Eggsy wasn't going through a phase, but she supported him. Eggsy was her baby, she just wanted her child happy. Nevertheless, Michelle's first boyfriend after Lee's death proved that letting Eggsy pass was safer for all concerned, so that's what he did. Gary was 'born' when Eggsy was ten; he was never happier. When he meets posh, traditional, ass-kicking Harry Hart, Eggsy is both hopeful and afraid. Does Harry know about him and will his best chance at a better life disappear if he finds out? You tell me._
> 
>  
> 
> Cross posted from [here!](http://dressing-room3.livejournal.com/405.html?thread=253077#t253077)
> 
> (Slightly edited from the fill posted on LJ.)
> 
> I hope I lived up to the OP's expectations!

Eggsy is Eggsy. That’s who he is, no matter what he was born as. He was just born. With the name Alexandra. He was born a baby like every other child on the planet. He didn't choose to be born anything. _“Don’t let anyone tell you any differently,”_  his mum told him after he finally became “Gary” after long deliberations.   
  
He still gets sad, sometimes, when he’s home and his little sis is screaming in the middle of the night and Dean is nowhere to be found, that his father is dead and not able to see his son. (He’s proud though. He keeps his military portrait in his room, having stolen it away from the mantelpiece when the second, third, fourth boyfriend moved in. He wants to make his dad proud but he doesn't know how, without sending his mother into a fit of panic, without them finding out that he’s trans.)  
  
( _He made it almost the whole way through the training for the marines, coming out nearly on top before his mother called up in a panic and the taunting and abuse from his squad got too much. He likes to think he gave it up for his mum but it isn't as black and white as that._ )  
  
He had started at four, refusing “girl” things. Refusing to let his hair grow long, refusing to play with dolls, crying when forced into the clothes that would fit a four year old girl. His mum caught on pretty quick, taking him down to the barber’s shop getting it all cut off. He thinks he can remember her crying because he smiled and giggled for the first time in months when the barber took the scissors and the clippers to his hair.   
  
It was the first taste of freedom, of validation for himself and he still cherishes the feeling of the clippers rolling over his head even now. Because he knows how easily it could be taken away.   
  
He’s had his breasts reduced but he still hasn't gone the whole nine yards: having gender reassignment surgery. No matter how hard his mum tried she couldn't afford it. Neither could he. So they slunk around Dean whilst he stayed on his testosterone and stayed fit practicing his gymnastics. (Which he dropped out of after he turned ten years old because they wouldn't have a transgender boy on their Olympic team and he can still hear his mother screaming down the phone as he did his homework and hummed, memorizing his routine even though it would never make it to be shown to others.) His friends stuck by him (they didn't know any better, didn't know he was trans) and life went on.   
  
Until that fucking “run to the shops” had him in the lock up and about to go down for 18 months for protecting his friends. Mind you, he doesn't snitch and he wouldn't snitch on his friends but now is a nice time to test out that handy favour him and his mum got. A very nice time. 18 months of reason to do so. 

 

\--

 

Turns out the posh bastard, Harry Hart, that comes to get him is also the guy that gave him his dad’s medal all those years ago. He does vaguely remember the smell of heavy, expensive cologne, the way a thumb rubbed at his face, not much more. It was inconsequential to his memory; nothing important to save vivid details of.   
  
So he takes him down to the Black Prince for a pint, forking out some cash that he shouldn't be using for beer and paying before sitting down in the booth nearest the window where Dean’s mutt was sitting the night before. He feels twitchy and uneasy sitting there but he doesn't say or let on that he does. He doesn't know who this guy is (other than his name), what he does, what he wants from him in return for that favour even though logically he knows it’s nothing he has to repay.   
  
“So before you were a tailor was you in the army? Like an officer?” he asks, pushing his luck just the littlest bit to see what he can get away with.   
  
“Not quite.”  
  
“So where was you post, Iraq or something?” He smiles a bit.   
  
“Sorry, Eggsy, classified.”  
  
He pulls a face at that. Wow what a hot shot, classified info and missions to the hilt. In the presence of greatness he is.   
  
“But my dad saved your life, yeah?” He’s hopefully and worried and scared all at once, for some reason.   
  
The man smells of tradition, down to the way he holds his fucking pint for god’s sake. He’s a second away from a pointed little finger. And it scares him. Traditional people don’t usually “approve” of “people like him”.   
  
But this guy goes on and on about how he made a mistake, how he missed something and how his dad saved everyone in the room by putting himself in the path of death. He can’t help but hate the man, a bit, the smallest bit. His father had accepted him before he had gone off and gotten himself killed in the ass crack of somewhere for the sake of this man and his team or friends or whatever they are.   
  
He can’t help it.   
  
He still smiles and enjoys the praise lavished on his father because he’s still proud of him. He never won’t be proud of his father for doing what he could to keep them afloat and secure and away from the scum of the town.   
  
“…And he’d be bitterly disappointed in the choices you've made.”  
  
Eggsy snaps out of his proud reverie and he exclaims,   
  
“You can’t talk to me like that!”  
  
“Huge IQ, great performance at primary school, then it all went tits up! Drugs, petty crime, never had a job…” he pauses and Eggsy jumps in before he can start another tirade of attacks against his person.  
  
“You think there’s a lot of job going ‘round here, d’ya?” he crosses his arms and leans back and hops to bar off the unwanted speech physically.   
  
“Doesn't explain why you gave up your hobbies. First prize regional under tens gymnastics two years in a row. Your coach had you pegged as Olympic team material.”  
  
“Yeah, well, when you grow up around someone like my step dad you pick up new hobbies pretty quickly.”  
  
“Yes, of course, it’s always someone else’s fault.”  
  
Eggsy shakes his head and glares, done with this shit. Just done.   
  
“Who’s to blame for you quitting the marines? You were halfway through training, doing brilliantly but you gave up.”  
  
Now Eggsy is  _fucking_  done with this man slandering him and loses it. Going off on a fucking speech about his mum, about how if he, they, had the same chances this man obviously had in childhood, he wouldn't be here, nobody would be in this situation.   
  
Then Dean’s mutt and his friends decide to make an appearance and everything takes an exhilarating trip up shit creek.


End file.
